


For Whatever Comes Next

by mushiemadarame



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always assume Stan and Eddie don't die in the future of my fics, Eddie's red shorts have done more for this fandom than Stephen King ever will, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Smoking, Spin the Bottle, Teenage Drama, Teenage Losers Club (IT), Teenagers, Truth or Dare, Underage Kissing, Underage Smoking, blink and you'll miss it really, on par with the book and movies tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushiemadarame/pseuds/mushiemadarame
Summary: "Do you think you can love more than one person at the same time?" Stan asks him one late afternoon in mid-July."Sure, Stan the Man," Richie answers way too chipper for someone who's butchering another person in the ring, even if just virtually, "Do you not like both your mom and dad?""That's not what I mean," Stan snaps testily at him, seemingly irritated by Richie not getting what he's saying without him having to explain himself, "I meanlove, love." He hesitates, then adds in a murmur, "You know, like a crush."
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Established Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon - Relationship, PAST Bill Denbrough/Beverly Marsh - Relationship, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	For Whatever Comes Next

**Author's Note:**

> I love 'drinking games' fics but unfortunately, I can never find as many of them as I'd like so I took it upon myself to write one.
> 
> This is kind of my first IT fanfiction and I wrote it as a break from another one I've been working on for a few months that is over 60k words in the making. I've never read the books or watched any other adaptations aside from the Muschietti ones so if you find any reference that doesn't come from that, I probably picked it up from other fanfiction.
> 
> Title comes from [Seven](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yw4vYbTNJDc) by Sleeping At Last.

"Do you think you can love more than one person at the same time?" Stan asks him one late afternoon in mid-July. 

They're sitting in Richie's room. Stan has been poring over one of their summer readings and long given up on making Richie do the same, who, after about thirty minutes of rereading the same page over and over again, had exclaimed a "Who even cares about this dude?!" and turned on his SNES to wait for Stan to get bored too. 

The plan had been that Stan would go over to Richie's house and make sure he wouldn't end up at the Aladdin spending the entirety of his allowance and of his youth in a dark smelly theatre and while he was at it, he would maybe convince Richie to make headway in his summer homework that he's been neglecting ever since vacation started. 

Stan wouldn't usually set foot in Richie's messy room without a very good reason, so Richie has to appreciate the effort even though he would rather be doing anything else than think about school in the summer. He's not even all that heartbroken about Stan making him stay inside instead of enjoying the cool water of the Quarry. It would have only been the two of them anyway, Mike has obligations at the farm during the day, and Ben has taken their summer assignments just as seriously as Stan and has been spending most of his mornings and some afternoons at the library, while Beverly is out with her aunt and Bill with his parents, and Eddie has one of his monthly doctor visits that had previously been weekly but he managed to negotiate down to one a month after he found out about his medications a few years back. 

They’re all going to meet later in the evening, have been for the past month and a half without exceptions but for now, Richie gets to enjoy the company of his first and nerdiest friend.

"Sure, Stan the Man," he answers way too chipper for someone who's butchering another person in the ring, even if just virtually, "Do you not like both your mom and dad?" 

"That's not what I mean," Stan snaps testily at him, seemingly irritated by Richie not getting what he's saying without him having to explain himself, "I mean _love_ , love." He hesitates, then adds in a murmur, "You know, like a crush." 

Richie's hands go slack around the controller and he looks away from the small screen in front of him with a warningly delighted expression, not even caring that his character is now getting ploughed into the ground by the computer. Stan gulps like he just realized he's made a big mistake. 

"I can't believe this!" Richie flutters his eyelashes at Stan wildly and his voice takes on a saccharine tone, "Our dear Stan has finally become a Man and is ready to get some!" He lets the controller fall to the bed sheet at his side and leans his face into his fists, eyes going wide and bright behind his glasses. "Do tell us all about it, young lad," he requests in an old-fashioned voice. 

Stan has always been the most reserved of them about his romantic proclivities, and Richie thought he just wasn’t all that interested in the girls at their high school. Richie can’t really blame him, for as much as he likes to boast about his many conquests of various nameless girls, the Losers all know it’s a lot of bark without much bite, it’s been an understanding ever since Richie discovered his own dick, but what they don’t know is that Richie has only had eyes for one person since long before he knew what that meant. But that’s not something Richie wants to or could even talk about, and he’s sure it doesn’t apply to Stan’s situation anyway, so it’s beyond the point.

"Beep beep, Richie," Stan rebuffs bitterly and seems tempted to hit Richie over the head with the book in his hands, "Sorry I thought you could actually be serious." With that, he slides off the bed and makes for his shoes tucked neatly next to the door of Richie's bedroom, ready to pull them on to leave. 

"Stan, come on, man," Richie whines and stands up too, so fast he almost stumbles over his own gangly legs. He's grown a lot in the last two years, but seemingly only upwards, and it's proven a bit of a challenge to get used to how much of his limbs there is now. He grabs one of Stan's elbows and pulls him around to make him face him. "I'm sorry,” he apologises sincerely, “I swear I'll take it seriously," he promises, and goes so far as to cross his heart as he does. 

Stan looks into his face and must be satisfied with what he sees because he lets the shoes fall back to the floor and closes the distance to sit on the bed again, much tenser than he was before. 

Richie mutters a triumphant "Yes" and joins him, knocking his shoulder gently into Stan's as he bounces down to sit. "So, who's the lucky lady?" he asks eagerly, then remembers Stan's words and corrects himself, "Or should I say la- _dies_? Always knew you'd turn out to be a playboy."

Stan chews on his lips thoughtfully and a crease deepens between his eyebrows, eyes going watery around the edges. He's very careful to keep his eyes on the ground so he doesn't have to look at Richie. When he speaks, he's so quiet that Richie almost misses it. "Guys, actually."

Richie takes a sudden breath of surprise and doesn't immediately respond. He looks into the profile of Stan's face attentively and sees the vulnerability there, the way he's clenching his hands in his lap and the tension in his back like he's ready to make a run for it if Richie so much as breathes wrong. But Richie's not disgusted or revolted - how could he be - just surprised, and not that unexpectedly, the first thing that pops into his head is the image of Eddie's smiling face. He pushes the thought aside forcefully. _This is not the time to think about our own possibly repressed, possibly feelings_ , he thinks, and opens his mouth to speak. "Hey, that's okay," he says gently, mustering the same courtesy he would like to receive if their places were reversed - tries not to think too hard that they might as well be -, and rests one of his hands over Stan's tight ones. 

Stan's fists go tighter before they ease up, and he turns his face tentatively to look up at Richie, who smiles reassuringly back at him. 

"Do you want to tell me who they are?" Richie asks softly when Stan doesn't say anything. 

"Promise not to tell?" Stan mumbles uncertainly, and Richie gets a flash of Stan at thirteen, scared out of his mind and crying when he thought they'd abandoned him. He had already assumed it would be a secret and even if he hadn't, he can tell that this is bothering Stan enough already and would never betray his trust like that, so he nods easily. Stan braces himself with a square of his shoulders, "It's’illan’ike," he rushes out in one low, quiet breath.

"Come again?" Richie asks, bringing a hand to his ear, "I didn't quite catch that." 

Stan sighs and repeats, much slower and at a normal volume, "It's Bill and Mike."

Richie gapes in surprise and almost laughs, but the ominous expression on Stan's face makes him think better of it and he tries to school the look on his own face into a more neutral one instead, it doesn’t work. "Hooooly wowie," he says, rounding his mouth around the words exaggeratedly and beaming excitedly at Stan. 

"I _know_ ," Stan groans and squeezes his eyes shut, his head hung with shame, "I couldn't have chosen worse."

"Well, I mean, they're two strapping lads," Richie jokes, "Plus, the heart wants what it wants, my man." He pats Stan's shoulder reassuringly. 

“Yeah, but I mean,” Stan shrugs slightly and hugs an arm around himself, pinching the skin of his elbow and looking down at the floor pensively, “Do I actually like them? Can I like both of them? Maybe I’m just confused, right? Nobody likes two people at the same time, they just don’t. I should just make up my mind and only choose one of them. I mean, have _you_ ever liked two people at the same time? Have you ever even liked another guy? Maybe that’s the thing, I don’t actually like either of them because they’re guys so maybe I’m just weird, I should just not think about it and it’ll go away on its own. Forget I even said it! Haha, just kidding! This never happened actua-”

“Slow down there, Eddie Kaspbrak,” Richie interrupts his manic tirade, “Slow down a little bit and let’s look at one thing at a time, okay?” He can’t believe he’s being the calm one right now. He almost wants to laugh, Stan just asked him if he’s ever liked another guy! _Oh Stanny boy_ , he thinks, _you have_ no _idea_.

Stan huffs out a long, deep breath and nods slowly. “Okay, yes.”

“Alright,” Richie counts on his fingers and says, “What was the first question?”

“Can you like two people at the same time?” Stan repeats.

Richie sinks lower into the bed, letting his back hit the wall behind them and looking up at the ceiling. His legs dangle from the edge of the mattress and fill the room with the rhythmic swooshing sound of his socked feet sliding on the floor as he considers it. “Right.” He pauses, doesn’t see Stan turn to him in wait for an answer. “I really don’t know, man,” he finally says and turns his palms upward in a disarmed gesture, “But I don’t see why not.”

When Stan doesn’t answer, Richie lets his head loll to the side to look at him, but Stan's eyes are on the floor again. “But they’re both guys,” he whispers, a little dumbly.

“That’s, like, a thing though, right?” Richie asks, “At least in San Francisco or whatever.” It’s a stupid thing to say, they both know gay people exist, have been called enough names to dissolve any doubts, but it has the desired effect.

Stan snorts out a small laugh and a smile starts blooming on his mouth, which he tries to hide behind a roll of his eyes when he finally looks back at Richie. “You think?” he asks with a lift of his eyebrows.

Richie smiles back, “You’re the one who asked.”

Neither of them says anything for a couple of minutes and Richie looks up at the ceiling again, tries to count the glow-in-the-dark stars he stuck there when he was a kid, but they’re hard to see when it’s still light out and he’s not paying enough attention to them anyway, trying to make up his mind about what he wants to say next.

He pulls himself to sit up straight and brings a knee to his chest, looks at the small hole that’s starting to tear along the seam of his sock so he doesn’t have to see Stan’s face when he speaks. “I might get what it’s like though,” he kind of mumbles out, then explains, “to like another guy.” He sees Stan straighten up from the corner of his eye and feels his face go hot with embarrassment behind his glasses. He keeps his eyes pointedly directed at his feet.

“You do?” Stan asks him hesitantly, and Richie finally looks up, gives him a tiny nod in reply, chewing nervously on his lower lip. Stan searches into his eyes and finally says, “Is it Eddie?”

Richie gapes like a fish out of water, huffs out an indignant breath and almost shouts, “How the _fuck_ did you know?!”

Stan visibly suppresses a laugh - Richie would have tried to smother it off his face if he hadn’t - and says casually, “It’s kind of obvious, Richie.”

Richie tries to stammer out a protest to defend himself, but he gives up when nothing comes out, flopping down on the bed sideways and bouncing his head against the pillow. He groans loudly and says, “I can’t believe this. Murdered in my own house.”

Stan nudges his thigh with a socked foot and reassures him, “I’m sure Eddie doesn’t know.” Then he adds, like it’s pretty obvious but he still needs to say it, “‘Cause he’s a bit of a dumbass.”

“Hey!” Richie warns him with a pointed finger from where he’s lying across the duvet, ”That’s my crush you’re talking about!”

Stan laughs, the mattress shakes with it, and Richie does too, closing his eyes and letting relief flow through him. He hadn't even realised he'd been worried about how Stan would react until he decided to say it, and he knows Stan must have felt the same. 

"What are we going to do?" Stan asks him resignedly when their laughter dies down. 

"Fuck if I know," Richie replies with a shrug. "We're gonna go to Ben's tonight and just pretend we're not crushing on two- sorry, _three_ ,” he corrects pointedly, “of our best friends. So business as usual." 

Stan hums in agreement and Richie continues, "You're lucky Bill and Bev broke up, at least. Although I guess there’s always still Mike." He lifts himself up on his elbows and looks at Stan consideringly, "You sure plan ahead, huh Urine?" 

"Oh, shut _up_ ," Stan groans, and shoves Richie away, almost making him roll off the bed. "Do you think Ben is gonna make a move sometime in the next century?" he asks then, and just like that the conversation moves on. 

* * *

In hindsight, it only happens because they're seventeen, they've been friends for almost five years, and movie nights can only be so entertaining, especially when you've had 60 of them in a row.

It's been a few days since Stan came to Richie with his big, gay revelation and they haven’t talked about it again, not exactly. Richie’s been shooting suggestive looks at Stan any time Bill or Mike so much as breathe next to him and Stan has been doing the same to Richie anytime he pokes and prods at Eddie a little more than he usually would, but none of the others seems to have noticed aside from Beverly, who caught them giving each other particularly meaningful looks at one point the same night they talked.

She hasn’t approached either of them about it, though, so Richie guesses they’ve been discreet enough after that.

He realises that is not the case at all when Beverly corners him in Bill’s kitchen a few days later as he waits for the popcorn to finish popping in the microwave and taps an absentminded rhythm on the resin counter next to it.

“What is going on between you and Stan?” she asks him in something that is not nearly as close enough to a whisper as Richie would like it to be, “You’ve both been acting weird for the past week and I want to know why.”

“I haven’t the slightest about what you might be implying, Miss Marsh,” he answers in what is supposed to be an old-timey, western movie sheriff voice that sounds more like he lost the use of half his mouth, and leans back into the cabinets casually.

She crosses her arms over her chest and lifts one eyebrow, looking directly into his eyes with an expectant expression. Richie tries not to cower under her knowing look, but it takes remarkable effort and he’s not sure he does as good of a job at it as he’s trying to. He gulps and doesn’t say anything.

She purses her mouth like she’s thinking of painful ways to pry the information out of him and squints determinedly. She finally lowers her arms and turns away from him with a deep breath and Richie thinks that he’s safe, that she’s given up. It’s short-lived, though, because he realises what exactly she was taking a breath for when she looks over the living room and zeroes in on one of the others only to shout out “Hey, Eddie, come over here for a second,” and turn back to Richie with the most triumphant, satisfied smirk he’s ever seen on her face.

Richie freezes against the cabinets, his eyes going wide and panicked, and starts shaking his head and his hands frantically, gesturing for her to stop. “No no no no, Bev, come on, don’t do this,” he grits out, but it’s too late, Eddie is already stepping closer.

“What?” he asks and looks from Beverly to Richie, who fixes a strained smile on his face and gets a frown in return.

Right at that moment, the microwave dings, signalling that the popcorn is done. Beverly reaches around Richie to open its little door and pulls out the bloated bag to pass it to Eddie. “The popcorn is ready,” she informs him sweetly, “Would you mind bringing it to the coffee table?”

“Sure,” he shrugs and takes it from her, walking away with a baffled expression.

Beverly and Richie watch his back as he goes to the sofa and gets sucked into whatever conversation is going on between Bill and Ben there before Beverly turns back to Richie. “Wanna try again, Trashmouth?”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Richie groans and his shoulders drop in defeat. “Let’s take a smoke?” he gestures to the back door that opens on Bill’s back yard.

She nods and walks outside, followed closely by Richie who slides the glass door closed behind him and takes a cigarette from Beverly when she offers it to him. He cups the hand around the lighter Beverly holds out and lights it up, takes a pull and watches as she lights another one for herself.

She blows out a line of smoke from the corner of her mouth and fixes her eyes on him again, “So? What’s going on?”

“Listen,” he starts, holding out his palms and holding the cigarette between his right index and middle fingers, “I’ll tell you but you absolutely cannot tell anybody else, and possibly not Stan either? Because he might actually kill me when he finds out I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” she urges him on, “My lips are sealed and all that jazz. Just tell me.”

“Promise,” he insists.

“I promise. Now what is it?” she demands.

“StanhasacrushonBillandMike,” he pushes out in one single breath. Beverly untangles the words in her head. Richie can tell the exact moment she gets it because her mouth and eyes go wide with elation and her arms dangle to her sides. “And I’m head over heels for Eddie,” he adds in a tiny voice, face scrunched up and only one eye open like he can’t look at Beverly’s reaction but he also doesn’t want to miss it.

Beverly opens her mouth to let out an excited scream, but Richie catches the gesture in time and grimaces, bringing a finger to his nose and shaking his head with urgency. The sound dies on her tongue and comes out as a high-pitched hum when she purses her lips closed around the scream instead.

“Since when?!” she asks with wide eyes, cigarette forgotten where she holds it between her fingers. “I mean, it kinda makes sense, to be honest,” she continues without waiting for an answer, “You’re all over Eddie all of the time so I guess I really should have gotten it sooner, but Stan?!” she emphasises, “Bill _and_ Mike?! I wouldn't have guessed in a million years.”

“Okay, first of all,” Richie says, “ _rude_. Why does everyone keep saying I’m obvious?”

“Because you are, dude,” she insists, “You and your pinching his cheeks and your _‘Cute, cute Eddie’_ ,” she makes a pinching motion with her hands, “and the _hammock_ ,” she looks to the sky and repeats, “Oh my god, the hammock!”

Richie’s face flames up at the mention of the hammock and he relents, “Okay, okay, enough, I get it. I’m a fucking joke.”

Beverly laughs and takes another drag from her cigarette. "I think it's cute," she says, lifting a shoulder, then asks, "When did Stan tell you?”

“Just a few days ago,” Richie shrugs and takes a puff.

Beverly hums and they stand there for a couple more minutes and finish their cigarettes in companionable silence, looking up at the stars as they twinkle slowly out of the purple, still-setting sky.

“So what are you guys going to do about it?” Beverly breaks the silence.

Richie lowers his eyes to her, but she’s still looking at the sky above. “What do you mean what are we gonna do about it?” he says, “We’re not gonna do anything.” Then adds a childish, “Duh!”

“Why, though?” she asks.

“Because getting rejected by three of our closest friends would totally fuck with the group dynamic?” he replies like he can’t believe he even needs to say it out loud.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “They might feel the same.”

Richie dismisses her with a snort. “Not Eddie,” he insists.

She looks at Richie like she wants to argue but seems to think it's not worth the effort. “Whatever,” she gives up and turns to the door. “Come on, let’s go watch this movie.”

They step inside and make sure to throw their crumpled cigarettes in the trash bag that already needs to be taken out so Bill's parents won't see them, and settle on the couch while Ben fiddles with the VHS player. 

Stan and Mike arrive just as Ben slides the tape in, and Richie doesn't fail to notice them getting there at the same time, lets Stan know with a curious rise of his eyebrows that Stan returns with a small shy smile. Richie doesn't have time to pull him aside to ask about it and tell him about his conversation with Beverly, though, because Ben takes their arrival as permission to press play on the movie, and they all take their usual places around the room to start watching.

Richie takes his spot at the far end of the couch, leaving just enough space between him and the armrest that Eddie can wiggle his way next to him as he always does with half of his ass on Richie’s thighs and his legs - which are mostly uncovered this particular night thanks to the bane of Richie’s existence, Eddie’s red short shorts - thrown over Richie’s. On the other side of Richie sits Mike and next to him is Beverly with her legs pulled to her chest, Bill and Ben settled on the floor leaning at their respective feet with their backs to the sofa. Stan is the only one who gets to sit alone in Bill’s dad’s armchair, having long called dibs on it way before Beverly, Ben and Mike joined their little ragtag family.

The movie is boring, because Ben chose it, and Richie suspects they might have already seen it before. He can’t be sure, though, because all of Ben’s movies blur together to Richie and he never manages to pay enough attention to tell them apart in the first place. He’s starting to fidget too, without even noticing, but he can tell by the way Eddie keeps pressing down on his legs to get him to stop, and from Eddie’s more and more frequent exasperated sighs, they’re this close to starting bickering about it, too.

They don’t get to though, because right at that moment, Beverly breaks the silence to ask, “Hey, Ben, isn’t this the same movie from two weeks ago?” _Ha!_ Richie knew it.

Ben shifts suspiciously from his place at Bev’s feet and rubs the back of his neck guiltily. “Uhhh… Maybe?”

“Seriously, Haystack?!” “Be-en!” Richie and Beverly scold him at the same time.

“Mike wasn’t there that time,” Ben reasons, “And I really wanted him to see it.”

“Ugh,” Richie groans loudly, throwing his head back into the couch.

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and says, “We could be watching E.T. right now.” He’s met with a choir of “No way”s and “We’ve already seen that one too,” and Richie laughs at him.

“You always make us watch E.T.,” he tells Eddie, “How old are you again, Spaghetti?”

“Oh like you haven’t made us watch Back to The Future five thousand times,” Eddie rebukes, “And don’t fucking call me that.”

“Well, you see,” Richie starts in a purposefully nasal voice, “Back to The Future is a _good_ movie, Eds, E.T.-”

“Not my name either!” Eddie interrupts before he can finish, “Also you’re so full of shit, Richie, like you don’t cry every time E.T. asks Elliot to go with him.”

“Oh, come on,” Richie whines, “That doesn’t even count, everyone cries at that! Plus, you cry the most out of everyone, so what’s your excuse?”

“That’s not even true, you’re such a dick!”

“Yeah, and I got a big one too, little Eds, what about it?”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie, you asswipe-”

“Make me, you dumb little-”

“Okay, that’s enough, children,” Beverly speaks over both of them. Bill sighs exasperatedly, while Mike watches them with an entertained expression and Ben just seems glad that they’ve moved on from him.

Eddie lets go of Richie’s hair where he was pulling it at the nape of his neck and Richie lowers Eddie’s leg back to the couch from where he’d been lifting it up in the air trying to make him tumble to the floor. They both smooth out their shirts and sink back into their position on the couch and when Richie looks around at the others, Stan is giving him a pointed look that he returns with a blush.

“I have an idea,” Beverly claps her hands, “Let’s play Spin The Bottle,” she proposes excitedly. 

Stan groans into his palms and Bill points out, “You’re the only g-g-girl, Bev, one out of seven are n-not good odds.”

Beverly seems to consider it, and Richie almost wants to protest, too. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the prospect that he might land on Eddie is not uninviting. Kissing Bill on the other hand? Or even Stan? Richie’s not sure Eddie’s worth the risk. “Truth Or Dare is way more fun, we should play that,” he suggests. He definitely doesn’t want to go back to Ben’s movie, and since Spin The Bottle is out of the question, it seems like a good enough compromise.

Beverly seems to consider it, but before she can comment, Ben blurts, “What if we combine them?” and goes red like the words came out of his mouth on their own.

“That doesn’t sound bad, actually,” Mike says and Richie can see his eyes flash to Stan for just a second before they go back to Ben, “But how would it work?”

Beverly pounds her right fist on her open left palm and her eyes light up. “Got it!” she announces and gets up to fetch an empty bottle of wine Bill’s parents left on the kitchen island to dispose of later. She comes back and stands in front of the couch holding it. “Each person chooses either Truth or Dare _before_ they spin the bottle,” she explains, “if they choose Truth, the person they land on gets to ask them a question,” she goes on, “if they choose Dare, they have to kiss the person they land on!”

“But it’s still six boys and only one girl,” Stan points out again, “That doesn’t exactly change anything.”

“Like this, you won’t have to kiss the person you land on, though,” Beverly argues, “You get to choose if you want to risk it or not.” When Stan still seems doubtful she adds with a knowing smirk, “Be brave if ye dare.”

“I’m i-in,” Bill declares, and that’s enough to prompt the others to agree too, even Stan. 

When Richie looks at him, Eddie, who’s been weirdly silent throughout the entire exchange, still seems reluctant, but he caves in too, so Richie doesn’t think about it too much.

Beverly sits down cross-legged on the floor with her back to the TV and sets the bottle down. Ben stands up to turn off the movie and takes her place on the couch, while Bill moves to sit next to her so they’re more evenly distributed, and Richie does the same, pushing Eddie’s legs off of his own and settling down on the floor next to Bill at Eddie’s feet. Stan scoots the armchair closer to their crooked circle, but doesn’t move out of it, sitting back with his arms around himself.

“Who wants to go first?” Beverly asks, looking to each of them one at a time. When nobody replies, she takes the lead. “Alright, I’ll go first. I choose Truth,” she says, and spins the bottle.

It rotates at least five times and then slowly comes to a stop, pointing straight at Richie, who smiles cheekily. He knows exactly what he wants to ask.

“Bad luck, Bev,” Mike jokes and she laughs.

Richie rubs his hands together like a villain and starts, “Well, well, well, Miss Marsh...”

“Yes, Tozier?” she beams fearlessly.

“Why did you and Bill break up?” Richie asks without hesitation, dropping the fanfare. He’s wanted to know for ages. Beverly and Bill never did give them an explanation and whenever Richie tried to press Bill, he always only received vague answers that confused him even more. But this is a game of Truth or Dare, and therefore very serious business, so Beverly will have to answer honestly.

She taps a finger on her chin pensively and looks up at the ceiling to consider her words. Bill sits tensely next to her and Richie would swear he can see an almost scared expression on his face, which makes him even more curious for the answer.

“No lying,” Richie reminds her.

“Let’s just say,” she replies looking back at him, “the spark went out.”

“Oh, what?!” Richie protests, “That’s not even an answer!”

Mike laughs and Bill sighs in relief. Ben is watching Beverly attentively.

“Your turn now, Richie,” Beverly dismisses him, and Richie gives up. Contrary to popular belief, he knows a lost cause when he sees one.

“Okay, okay,” Richie rolls his eyes, “Let’s keep it tame for now. I’ll go with Truth.” He grabs the bottle and makes it spin a little harder than he should. It keeps turning for almost a full minute and finally lands on Mike. Richie internally breathes a sigh of relief.

“Do you need a suggestion?” Eddie elbows Mike conspirationally, but Richie stops him.

“Nuh-huh, Eds,” he shakes his head, “That’s not how the game works.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him and falls back into the couch with his arms crossed. “Don’t call me that,” he mumbles half-heartedly.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Mike says, “I know what I want to ask. Richie,” Mike fixes his eyes on him, “have you ever had a crush on Bill?” Bill groans and hides his face in his hands, but Mike ignores him, waiting for Richie’s answer instead.

Richie lets out a loud laugh and leans back on his hands. “Of course!” he bellows, “Who hasn’t immediately developed a brief but intense crush on Bill the first time they met him?!”

Pretty much everyone around the circle nods in resigned agreement. Even Eddie, Richie notes.

Bill gapes, “What?!” And Mike lifts his eyebrows at him in an _I told you_ , expression that makes Richie think this is not the first time the subject has come up between them, but he can’t possibly fathom the occasion that would have made them talk about it before now.

“Alright, alright, enough about Bill,” Bev interrupts their little exchange, “Mike, Truth or Dare?”

Mike thinks on it for a second and says, “Dare,” before leaning down to make the bottle spin. Richie whistles lewdly, things are about to get fun. The bottle goes around for a couple of times and lands on Stan, who shrinks into the armchair cushion as soon as everyone’s eyes are on him.

Richie tries to suppress the excited smile that he can feel growing in his cheeks and looks at Beverly, who’s eyeing Stan with glee.

Mike stands up and dusts off his thighs nervously, and Richie sees his eyes flash to Bill for just a second before he walks closer to Stan. Bill is enthralled, his eyes flit between Mike and Stan furiously and his lips have gone red where he keeps biting them with anticipation. 

The room is completely silent apart from the soft sound of Mike leaning into the armchair to reach Stan’s face. Everyone holds their breath as Mike finally closes the distance and pecks Stan delicately on the lips, his right hand gentle on Stan’s left cheek as he does.

Richie can’t see Stan’s face from where he’s sitting, but he can see Stan’s hands on the armrests, squeezing the aqua leather in a vicelike grip.

When they finally separate, Mike turns back to his place with a smile and Stan is blazing red in the face, looking anywhere but the others’ eyes. Nobody says anything. Richie almost misses the small responding smile on Bill’s face when Mike looks at him again. _Uh_ , he thinks, _now that’s odd_.

Beverly clears her throat slightly, and it’s like they all come out of their trance at the same time. “I guess it’s your turn, Stan?” she says uncertainly, her smile still hasn’t dropped.

“Yeah,” Stan croaks out, then repeats louder, “Yes, I’m gonna go with… Uhm… Dare I think.” He looks at Richie who gives him a surreptitious thumb up and gets a scowl in return. Stan leans down and spins the bottle delicately. It doesn’t rotate more than twice before it stops just into Bill’s orbit.

Richie masks his snort with a choked cough that gets him a concerned look from Eddie. “Are you okay, Richie?” he asks, and Richie nods vigorously, humming in affirmation.

Stan stands up and squares his shoulders. Bill and Mike exchange another knowing look and then Stan leans down at the same time as Bill lifts his head to meet him halfway. Stan closes his eyes and kisses Bill blindly, his cheeks flushing again. Bill reaches out one of his hands and tangles it in the curls at the nape of Stan’s neck, moving his mouth gently against Stan’s. They don’t move apart when they separate, keep looking into each other’s eyes intently before Bill’s eyes wander to Mike’s, who’s looking at them with an appeased expression that Richie can’t begin to decipher. 

Stan sits back then, and Bill reaches for the bottle before Beverly says anything. “T-Truth,” he picks, and spins it.

It rotates slowly unto Ben. “Oh, uh...” he hesitates, not expecting to have to think of a question. “Let’s see. Bill,” he addresses, “have you ever liked another boy?”

“Good one, Haystack!” Richie calls, lifting up a hand to give him a high-five, “Who would have thought?!” Ben returns it with a chuckle. Bev also seems impressed.

“Yes,” Bill doesn’t hesitate, looks around the room defiantly like he’s challenging them to comment, but no one does. Mike hides a small entertained smile behind his hand, but only barely.

When Richie looks at Eddie for his reaction, he’s not nearly as surprised as Richie would have expected him to be, and Richie starts wondering if maybe he and Stan are not the only ones telling each other secrets.

“It’s your turn now, Ben,” Stan spurs him on. 

Ben nods and reaches down to the bottle. “Truth,” he chooses before giving it a spin. It stops on Eddie.

“Finally,” he crows, and Richie realises everyone else has already had a turn but him. “Ok, Ben,” he gets ready to ask. He seems to debate the question he’s thinking of for a couple more seconds, unsure whether he should ask it or not. “Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?” he asks finally.

Richie laughs. “That’s savage, Spaghetti!” he exclaims, “Why am I the trashmouth again?”

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie shushes him and looks back to Ben expectantly.

Ben looks at Beverly from the corner of his eye and immediately away again. She’s waiting for his answer just as eagerly as Eddie. “Yes,” he squeaks out in embarrassment. She smiles.

“Your t-turn, Eddie,” Bill nudges.

“Right. Dare,” he says determinedly and gives the bottle a good spin.

Richie hides his crossed fingers into fists and silently prays _Land on me, land on me, land on me_ , to whatever deity deigns to listen. It doesn’t work though, because the bottle skips past him and rolls slightly before it stops on Beverly. Richie squashes down the pang of jealousy that stabs his stomach and responds to her apologetic look with a small, resigned smile. When he looks at Stan, he’s mirroring Richie’s discouraged expression with sympathy.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes out when he sees who the bottle’s pointing at. Richie could almost believe he sounds disappointed, but he dismisses it as wishful thinking. Eddie gets up and closes the distance to Beverly, leaning on her shoulder as he lowers his face close to her and gives her a quick peck on the corner of her mouth, almost missing her lips. Beverly winks at him playfully when he steps back and sits down again. Richie tries not to think too hard about how sure he is that Eddie avoided her lips on purpose.

“Alright. Me again,” Beverly rubs her palms together and grasps the bottle. “Dare!” she announces, and makes it go.

It only spins once and comes to a crawling speed after it passes Ben, so slow that Richie thinks it’s about to stop at least three times. But it keeps going, inching past Mike, Eddie, Richie, Bill, Beverly herself and even Stan to finally come to a stop pointing at Ben’s feet.

“You don’t have to,” Ben, ever the gentleman, reassures her, but Beverly is already standing up and stepping in front of him and smiling softly.

She frames his face with both hands gently and closes her eyes as she leans closer. It’s a sweet, slow kiss, makes Ben turn redder with every second that their lips touch. When they finally separate, Beverly looks into Ben’s eyes with a shy, tiny smile and blushes too. Richie can’t remember her ever looking at Bill like that and feels suddenly like he’s seeing something too private to witness, almost looks away. Then Beverly turns around to sit down again, leaving Ben to look at her back with a besotted expression.

“Very romantic,” Richie can’t stop himself from blurting, and he regrets it even before Beverly sends him a scowl. “You get to spin again, Ben.”

Ben clears his throat, “Uh, erm, Truth.” He sends the bottle whirling.

It lands easily on Mike next to him who scratches his nose pensively. “Sorry, Ben, but I _have_ to ask,” he apologises before adding, “Is your crush on Beverly?”

Eddie’s mouth drops in shock and he turns to look at Richie, who’s barely containing his laughter, eyes just as wide. 

“Look out for the caring ones,” he comments.

“Right?!” Eddie snorts.

“Mike, that’s so m-m-mean,” Bill tells him, but he doesn’t seem particularly disapproving. Stan nods in agreement but doesn’t say anything.

Both Beverly and Ben have gone red in the face, but while she seems torn between curiosity and not wanting Ben to feel uncomfortable, he looks like he might take off and flee if they stop looking at him for even just a second. That’s not going to happen, though, because all their attention is focused on him, breaths bated in anticipation for his answer even though they already know what it’ll be.

“Yes,” Ben closes his eyes and replies with a sigh, opens just one of them to look at Beverly’s reaction, whose smile grows big and pleased, enough for Ben to relax slightly. His blush doesn’t abate. “It’s your turn now, Mike,” he changes the subject.

“Sorry, man,” Mike repeats with a pat on his shoulder and Ben nods. “Alright,” Mike says, leaning down to grab the bottle, “Dare,” he spins. Richie thinks he sees his fingers cross where they dangle from his knee but can’t be sure.

It stops all at once, pointing squarely on Bill.

Bill looks to Mike with a calm expression, and Mike doesn’t seem nervous either. They both stand up and Bill’s hand goes to Mike’s waist easily, who doesn’t seem surprised by the gesture. Their kiss is quick and sweet and they both turn to Stan when they separate, looking for his reaction. Stan is looking back raptly, mouth agape and tip of the ears gone red.

Realisation hits Richie. “ _Fuck_ ,” he mumbles out.

Beverly turns to him and gives him a meaningful look, just as shocked as he is. _Are you seeing what I’m seeing?_ she seems to be asking him. Richie responds with a small shrug and an incredulous grin.

“What the fuck is going on?” Eddie hisses from Richie’s right side. Richie has no idea what to say.

Mike and Bill go back to their places but nobody says anything for a couple more minutes. The shock is still palpable in the air.

“Is it getting hot in here, or is it just the threesome?” Richie shatters the silence, pulling at his collar with one hand and fanning himself with the other.

“Beep, _beep_ , Richie,” Beverly scolds him, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“ _God_ , Richie,” Stan groans, hiding his face in his hands.

Mike chuckles and Bill smiles, the apples of his cheeks reddening faintly.

Ben clears his throat and gestures to the bottle, “Erm… It’s your turn, Bill,” he says, looking pointedly away from Bill, Mike, and Stan.

Bill nods and whirls the bottle. “Oh, T-T-Truth,” he says before it stops spinning. It halts slowly on Eddie.

Eddie is taken by surprise. “Uhhhh...” he stalls, looking at Richie for help. 

Richie shrugs and shakes his head, “I don’t know, dude.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and concentrates. “Oh!” he lights up, “Bill, are you and Mike… together?” He says the last word like he’s not sure what it means.

“Brav- _oh_ , Eds,” Richie says and extends his hand to him for a high-five.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie complains, but he returns the high-five anyway.

Bill laughs slightly and then nods. “Yes,” he answers confidently.

“Oh, okay,” Eddie replies uncertainly, nodding to himself.

Richie looks to Stan for his reaction, but Stan’s eyes are pointed firmly at his own lap with a downturned frown and he’s biting the nails of his left hand thoughtfully. When Eddie speaks again, Richie looks away.

“I go again, right?” Eddie asks, and Beverly nods. “Truth, then,” he says, and makes the bottle twirl.

Richie follows its motion as it takes a couple of turns and comes to a halt pointing at Beverly.

She looks at Eddie with a mischievous grin and doesn’t take any time to think of a question at all. “Was I your first kiss?” she asks immediately.

“Of course you were! Right, Eds?” Richie replies in his place with conviction, but when he looks at Eddie, he hesitates, “Eds?”

Eddie swallows audibly and sends a quick glance to Richie, who’s looking back at him raptly, waiting for confirmation. “No,” he croaks out guiltily.

“What?!” Richie squawks, “When?” he asks, changes his mind and shouts, “ _WHO?!_ ”

“It’s not your t-turn, Richie,” Bill admonishes him, and he doesn’t look surprised by Eddie’s answer.

“You knew?” Richie turns to him. Bill nods, “Why did you know and not me?” he asks affronted and looks back to Eddie, who’s not returning his gaze.

“Enough, Richie,” Beverly admonishes him, “Don’t be a dick.”

“But-” Richie protests. When Bill shakes his head, it dies on his lips, and he deflates. “Whatever.”

“Okay, let’s continue,” Beverly moves on, “I’ll go with Dare.” 

She spins the bottle. It lands on Bill. They kiss without much ceremony, but it’s just a friendly peck and it lasts less than a second. When Beverly looks at Ben for his reaction, he doesn’t seem too bothered.

Richie wouldn’t care, either way, he’s still wondering who Eddie might have kissed. He thinks of all the girls in their grade, tries to remember the ones that share a class with Eddie, but he’s not all that interested about anyone other than their small group of friends and can’t really say which of them might have shown an interest in Eddie and Eddie never said. He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he misses Bill choosing Truth and spinning the bottle. Richie only realises it landed on him when he looks up and all the other’s eyes are on him. 

“R-Richie,” Bill waves a hand in front of his face to get his attention, “You n-need to ask me a question.”

“Oh, right,” Richie says and instinctively looks at Stan, then back to Bill. “Are you in love with Stan?” he asks without thinking twice and winces. He might have been a little more delicate about it if he hadn’t been so distracted thinking about Eddie, but he guesses it’s too late to take it back now, and he’s curious anyway.

Bill blushes slightly and looks at Stan. “Yes,” he answers shyly, but he’s smiling.

“I- But- Uh-” Stan hesitates and blushes too, eyes going from Bill to Mike, who’s looking back and smiling too.

 _That’s gonna be easy to solve_ , Richie thinks amusedly. He’s very happy for Stan. “Ooo-kay,” he interrupts their little stare-off, “My turn again, _finally_.” He rubs his palms conspirationally and says, “Dare,” before he sends the bottle spinning again.

“Of course,” Beverly comments and rolls her eyes playfully.

Richie wouldn’t admit it under torture, but his stomach goes into knots every time the bottle looks like it’s about to stop on Eddie. It passes him three times, and Richie is almost ready to give up his hopes when it seems like it’s gonna point to Mike. It inches forward, though, and does stop at Eddie’s feet, and suppressing his cry of triumph is the hardest thing Richie’s ever had to do. 

“I’m about to rock your world, Spaghetti,” he jokes with a confidence that he really doesn’t have and gets up on shaky legs. He brushes off the thighs of his pants and straightens his shoulders. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he looks at Eddie’s face and asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and hoping it’s enough to hide how nervous he feels, “You might never be the same ag-”

Eddie rolls his eyes impatiently and grabs the neck of his t-shirt, dragging him down forcefully and smashing their mouths together.

Richie’s glasses go crooked on his nose when they squash into Eddie’s cheek and it takes Richie a second to remember to close his eyes through the surprise.

Their kiss is clumsy and harsh at first. Then, Eddie’s hand slides from Richie’s t-shirt to his neck and their mouths readjust against one another, moving gently. They kiss once, then once more, their lips barely separating at all between one kiss and the other and Eddie’s palm is fire on Richie’s skin. Before Richie can think of doing something with his own hands, Eddie is pulling back and away and Richie stands in front of him for a few more moments, looking into Eddie’s red face and trying to find what he’s looking for in his eyes. From how hot his own face feels, Richie’s pretty sure Eddie’s not the only one blushing.

“Uhhhh,” Richie says dumbly, and finally seems to remember himself. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Kaspbrak?” he jokes, trying to gather his composure.

“Ugh, gross, Richie,” Eddie groans and looks away. Richie tries not to let it sting too much.

“It’s your turn again, Eddie,” Ben reminds him as Richie sits down.

Eddie sends the bottle spinning with a mumbled, “Truth,” and sits back.

Beverly mouths an excited _Wow_ Richie’s way and he rubs his neck with embarrassment in reply, looking down at the bottle as it goes.

It stops slowly on Beverly. “Eddie,” she scrutinizes him and asks, “Do you like Richie? And I mean _like_ , like.”

Richie holds his breath and looks down at the floor, fists tight in his lap as he braces himself for the sure denial he’s going to get. His eyes go wet at the corners and his head fills with a litany of _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_ , in the silence of the wait.

“Yes,” Eddie answers unexpectedly.

Richie’s head snaps up to look at him, one rogue tear escaping from the corner of his eye. “What?” he asks incredulously and doesn’t let himself believe, just in case he heard wrong.

“Richie,” Eddie looks back with alarm and lunges for him, sitting half-off the sofa to take Richie’s face in his hands. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Richie mumbles with a sniff, but he’s lost all control of his face and the tears are falling freely now, overflowing with the joy Eddie’s words have brought him.

“You dumb boy,” Eddie shakes his head affectionately and stands up, pulling Richie on his feet along him. “We’re not playing anymore,” he tells the rest of the room, and pushes Richie in the direction of Bill’s bathroom.

Eddie pushes Richie inside and pulls the door closed behind them, scrambling for a towel as Richie keeps sobbing silently. “Please, stop crying,” he pleads with a concerned tone, pressing the fabric delicately against Richie’s cheeks. He dabs at Richie’s face carefully but urgently. “My first kiss was Kelly Boots from chemistry last year,” he explains softly, out of the blue, “I didn’t tell you because it was just for a bet she made with her friends and I was afraid you'd make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Richie mumbles between sobs.

“I know,” Eddie reassures him. 

“I would have made Beverly kick her ass,” Richie insists and it makes Eddie smile.

“She kind of did,” Eddie explains, “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

Richie sniffs once, twice more, and takes a deep breath, the tears finally stopping.

He grabs Eddie’s hands gently to pull them away from his face and doesn’t let go. “Did you mean it?” he asks Eddie imploringly.

Eddie searches Richie’s eyes and blushes but doesn’t hesitate when he replies, “Yes.”

Richie launches himself at Eddie, circling his shoulders in a crushing hug and burying his face into Eddie’s neck. Eddie freezes for a second before bringing his hands up to Richie’s waist and hugging him back, his nose pressed against Richie’s shoulder. They breathe into each other, chests moving together, and finally step back after a few moments. Eddie’s hands don’t let go of Richie’s hips. 

Richie frames Eddie’s face with gentle fingers and looks into his eyes intensely, searching for permission and finding it easily. He leans slowly into Eddie and lets their lips touch, more tender than their other kiss and not as awkward.

Eddie’s lips are soft and plump against Richie’s own and they open under Richie’s touch, drawing him in and tentatively nudging Richie’s mouth with his tongue. Richie complies and they move against each other. Richie adjusts their noses so the can get even closer and kisses Eddie slowly, his every sense filled with the sensation of Eddie between his hands.

When they finally pull away, they’re both panting slightly and beaming like the lovestruck teenagers they are and for the first time in his life, Richie has no words.

“Walk me home?” Eddie asks him timidly, letting go of his waist. Richie nods and follows him out of the bathroom and back to the living room to retrieve their shoes.

The room is conspicuously absent of Stan, Bill and Mike. When Richie looks at it, the door to Bill’s back yard is only half-closed. Beverly isn’t on the floor anymore either. She’s sitting on the couch next to Ben instead, and the two are holding hands and talking in hushed tones.

“We’re heading home,” Richie tells them when they notice their presence. They nod slightly and turn back to each other again.

Richie and Eddie pull on their shoes by the side of the front door and get out into the cool air of the night. They look at each other again and Eddie slides his hand tentatively into Richie’s, who squeezes it back gently.

They walk unhurriedly to Eddie’s house and don’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this and that you'll let me know in the comments if you did!
> 
> I just want to say a couple of things before sending you off. 
> 
> Firstly, writing seven characters in one single scene is super f*cking hard so I apologise if the dialogue or the characterisation is off, I really did try my best.
> 
> And secondly, I wrote this for myself first and foremost because my first kiss was during a terrible spin the bottle game and it was really, really bad and pretty much a reflection of my entire romantic life when I was in high school so it's pretty much a situation of giving characters I love good things that I didn't get to have which I'm sure a lot of fanfiction authors can relate to.
> 
> That said, thank you once again for taking the time to read this far and find me on Tumblr under the same name if you feel like it! It would definitely make my day :D


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